The Terror of Vault 339
by Greghale779
Summary: Here is part one of an ongoing fan fiction Im writing on fallout keep in mind this is my first attempt at writing fan fiction!


The Terror of Vault 339

Greg Hale was relieved; he had finally made it to vault 339. It had been a twelve-hour walk across the wasteland from his home vault 779 to get there, yet he wasn't relieved to see a gaping hole in the vault door. Greg approached the vault door cautiously, carrying his Gauss rifle and sporting his T-51 power armor. Greg observed the door. He didn't like what he saw.

The door had been hit by something so hard it had caved in and Greg knew what had done it too. He knew the minute he saw those telltale claw marks on the door. The gashes were at least an inch or two deep. Greg knew nothing in the wasteland could cut through eight-inch-thick titanium than a Deathclaw.

Deathclaws were the most notorious and infamous creatures in the wasteland. They stood at over eight feet tall, weighed over three hundred pounds. They were incredibly fast and had claws the size of swords. Everything in the wasteland was scared of them, even Greg, who had heard countless terrifying tales. One story he heard was of a man who was sliced into five perfect pieces. The creature's claws cut through everything cleanly.

Greg shook away that thought. He knew he had to press on. He was sent here by the overseer of vault 779 on account that vault 339 had sent out a distress signal. Greg knew a couple people from this vault, it would be sad to see them all killed by a Deathclaw.

Greg took a tentative step inside, the weight of his power armored foot thudding to the floor, sending echoes through the metal reinforced room. He looked around this room, besides the door everything else had been untouched, which made Greg wonder why no one had been guarding the door.

"Hello?" Greg called out.

No one answered. _Great,_ Greg thought. _Just what I needed today._ Greg observed the room. It was a barracks room where all the dwellers slept and stayed. Greg noticed smashed bookshelves, broken vases, and ruined walls. There was blood on the floor and laser residue all over, yet none of this stood out to him. Greg knew this is where the fight began. Greg counted three dead dwellers and shook his head in sorrow noticing someone he knew.

"Damn shame Albert. You were a good man," Greg commented seeing Albert's dead body.

Albert Smith had gotten his chest cavity split open; he had bled to death in mere seconds. Greg remembered him fondly, however, and wept beneath his helmet at the sight of his mangled corpse. Greg remembered him before the bombs hit, remembered how compassionate he had been. He moved towards him and begrudgingly closed his eyes with a sob.

That's when he turned to his left and saw Jonathan Belgrad laying against a wall. Jonathan was also Greg's friend before the war. Greg almost mistook him for being dead when he saw him move with a groan. Blood was running out of a gaping wound in his side. Jonathan raised his laser rifle at Greg.

"Whoa easy! I'm here to help! I'm from vault 779!" Greg exclaimed.

Having recognized the voice, Jonathan lowered his weapon.  
"Greg? Buddy . . . it's you . . . after all these years . . ." Jonathan said, relieved, while clutching at his bleeding side.

"Yeah, I was sent here to respond to the distress call. What happened here?" Greg asked as if he didn't already know.

"Deathclaw attacked us . . . we didn't expect it . . . it's somewhere inside . . . we managed to wound it but . . . it just kept coming . . . like a freight train." Jonathan struggled to speak. Greg could tell he was in bad shape.

"You're going to be okay, Jonathan," Greg said, reaching into his bag. Greg pulled a stimpack out. It was this amazing medical syringe that had the ability to stop bleeding, cauterize wounds, and heal broken bones; it even amazed Greg.

He jabbed the syringe into Jonathan's leg. He watched as Jonathan's bleeding slowly stopped, and in mere moments, he was on his feet again.

"Get out of here this is a vault 776 matter now," Greg ordered.

"Are you out of your mind?! Do you really think that Gauss rifle and that power armor is going to be enough to take down that behemoth?! Greg, it went through two turrets, firing five-millimeter rounds two thousand a minute, plus ten dwellers all armed with laser and plasma rifles. It's unstoppable!" Jonathan said with a hushed panic, looking at Greg as if he was crazy.

"Jonathan, I've seen people kill Deathclaws with much less than I have now. C'mon, I can handle this. The overseer knew I was the man for the job!" Greg said with confidence.

Jonathan paused for a minute then said, "Okay, be careful man."

Jonathan ran out of the vault, headed for safety. A moment later, Greg heard a metallic bang and turned to look down the corridor. Two rooms ahead he saw two big, clawed hands gripping a hole in the floor, and the figure quickly raised itself into view. Greg raised his rifle. The Deathclaw spotted Greg and let out a bellowing roar that sent a shockwave throughout the rooms ahead. It charged towards him.

The creature was at least ten feet tall, barely short enough to pass under the metallic arches in the vault rooms. It had big horns on its head and gnarly looking teeth. Its skin was a patchy brown, and it had two dead-looking white eyes.

Greg fired a round aimed at the creature's chest. It hit its mark, yet the creature kept coming. Greg reloaded another shot into his rifle quickly. The rifle hummed to life, signifying it was loaded. He took aim, firing this time at the beast's head. BOOM! The high velocity shot hit its mark, stopping the creature dead in its tracks. It was heavily dazed, yet Greg knew the shots were merely pissing it off, but he needed to buy Jonathan time to escape.

Greg reloaded the rifle; however, this time something malfunctioned and the gun wasn't responding.

"Darn it all. Not now!" Greg cried.

He slapped the magazine into place, yet the gun remained unresponsive.

"C'mon you bastard!" Greg said, becoming worried.

He put the gun aside and tossed a grenade down the hall. It landed at the creature's feet. BANG! The explosion shook the vault. Greg continued to hit the magazine into place. He had had this gun a while, and now out of all times, it decided to malfunction.

He gave it one final heavy-handed swat, and the gun hummed to life.

"Thank you, God!" Greg cried, relieved.

He turned the corner ready to fire another shot only to see the Deathclaw standing in front of him.

"Oh n-" Greg managed to get out before he was grabbed by the beast and tossed back into the vault entrance. He hit the metallic floor with a loud bang. Before he could get up, he was kicked to the side by the creature as it made its way to the door. Greg scrapped across the metallic floor. He suddenly realized that it wanted to get out, which meant one of two things: it was weak, or it knew how to pick its fights. Greg got up. He raised his rifle again, this time charging a shot by holding down the trigger. The gun began building power.

"Eat this, you overgrown dinosaur!" Greg exclaimed as he fired the shot. The recoil knocked him back, but his aim stayed true. It hit the right arm of the beast, blasting it clean off. Blood sprayed out of the shoulder. The Deathclaw roared in pain. It stopped, turned around, and charged at Greg, and before he could reload, it was upon him. With its left arm, it grabbed him. Its whole hand wrapped around him like a vice. The beast tossed Greg clean out of the vault. Greg estimated it was a good fifteen feet of distance, despite the weight of his armor.

He landed hard in the dirt. A heavy wind was causing a dirt storm, lowering Greg's visibility. Greg raised himself up. He saw the now one-armed creature come out of the darkness of the vault into the light. Greg got to his feet and raised his rifle. Yet again, by the time he did this, the creature was upon him. It swatted away his rifle. It flew far off to the right, out of reach. Greg recovered and punched the beast with a hard right hook in the jaw. He heard its jaw crack. The massive Deathclaw retaliated by swatting Greg in the face with its left-hand claws, breaking the visor on his helmet. Greg immediately got dirt in his eyes as well as glass in his face.

"Arrg!" Greg cried out.

Greg was hit so hard that he was knocked to the ground. The massive monster lifted Greg with its one arm and began slamming him repeatedly to the ground. It slammed him upwards of four times, then tossed him aside. Greg was hurt bad. Somehow, despite wearing power armor, the beast had managed to break his left leg. That's when his power armor replaced the broken visor. Greg looked up, barely managing to see with the dirt in his eyes. He managed to make out his Gauss rifle in front of him. He reached for the rifle, but his arm was stomped on by the Deathclaw.

"Damn you!" Greg cried as he looked up at the abomination that was going to kill him. The creature raised its left arm ready to finish him off, when it got shot in the back. The Deathclaw stumbled forward, releasing Greg's arm. Greg's suit finally administered a cleansing spurt of water to his eyes. Greg could see again.

The first thing Greg saw was Jonathan blasting away with his laser rifle.

"Die, you monster!" Jonathan shouted, firing like a madman.

Greg clambered to his feet, grabbing his rifle. He reloaded it and turned around just in time to see the Deathclaw toss a massive boulder at Jonathan.

"Jonathan, look out!" Greg cried, trying to run to save him, but falling due to his broken leg. Greg watched in horror as Jonathan, despite trying to run, was knocked down and pinned under the rock.

"Nooooo!" Greg cried as he got back to his feet. Greg charged a shot on his Gauss rifle, turned, and fired at the charging Deathclaw's head. It missed, and the beast rammed into Greg, knocking him back down. It was headed to finish off Jonathan. Greg knew he couldn't let that happen. Greg reloaded his final round into the Gauss rifle, aimed it at the creatures back, and said, "Go to hell!"

He fired the shot. It blew straight through the creature's back and out its chest. The massive Deathclaw fell to its knees and went face first into the dirt. Blood began pooling on the dirt where it lay. Greg got to his feet and hobbled his way over to Jonathan's side. He found him, his legs and waist crushed by the boulder. He was spitting up blood. He looked up at Greg.

"Hey pal . . ." Jonathan said with much effort.

"Hey," Greg said sadly.

"Looks like this is it . . . huh?" Jonathan said.

Greg knelt down as best he could with his broken leg and put a hand on Jonathan's chest. Jonathan grabbed his hand.

"Stimpacks won't save you now, I'm afraid," Greg said, almost in tears beneath his helmet.

"Yeah . . . I guess they won't," Jonathan said, coughing up more blood.

Greg couldn't stand to see Jonathan suffer. He'd known him almost thirteen years, a long time before the bombs hit.

"Greg?" Jonathan said weakly.

"Yeah, what is it, pal?" Greg said with a trembling voice.

"Do me a favor and end this pain. Put me out," Jonathan exclaimed.

Greg was shocked but understood. He didn't want to see Jonathan suffer, but he also didn't want to have to end his misery. Somehow, Jonathan knew this is how Greg felt and said, "If you don't . . . something else will . . ."

Greg, in that moment, made up his mind. He picked up Jonathan's laser rifle and pointed it at him.

"Goodbye Jon . . ." Greg said.

"Goodbye Greg . . ." Jonathan said, trying to put on a brave face.

Greg fired the rifle, dropped it, and wept. He had never thought it would come to this.

But war. War never changes.


End file.
